


Out of The Hive, Into The Cocoon

by deepestfathoms



Series: SIX Wing AU [1]
Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wings, Fluff, Gen, Maternal Instinct, Soft Catherine of Aragon, Wingfic, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:08:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25752598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepestfathoms/pseuds/deepestfathoms
Summary: When one of the cast members goes into an unexpected metamorphosis, Aragon finds herself missing the girl a lot more than she thought she would.
Series: SIX Wing AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1868137
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Out of The Hive, Into The Cocoon

**Author's Note:**

> Wings:  
> Aragon- Phoenix  
> Anne- Parrot  
> Jane- Harpy eagle  
> Cleves- Red dragon  
> Kitty- Glass butterfly  
> Cathy- Dragonfly  
> Bessie- Vampire bat  
> Maria- Hornet  
> Maggie- Magpie  
> Joan- Rosy maple moth

“I don’t feel that well…”

“Wow, there’s a big surprise. I think I’m going to have a heart attack and die from surprise.”

Jane rolled her eyes at Joan’s wounded expression. She canted her harpy eagle wings away, as if she were afraid the Flightless’s presence may dirty the pristine, shiny feathers. Joan noticed that, too, and looked even more hurt.

“What’s going on this time?” Kitty asked loudly. Her glass butterfly wings are blindingly iridescent in the overhead fluorescent lights and make Joan feel even more dizzy and nauseous than she already was.

“None of your business.” Joan snapped. She rubbed her wrists, which haven’t stopped burning since the night before. Her stomach was all cramped up, too, like something was trying to claw its way out of her.

“Must not be important then,” Kitty said with a shrug.

“Kitty’s right,” Jane said. “Don’t waste our time, Joan. We’re going to perform in an hour and don’t need you distracting us.”

“But--”

“If you felt bad, then you should have called in sick or left sooner.” Jane cut her off coldly.

She whisked away after that, leaving Joan alone in the hall to stew in embarrassment and increasing discomfort. Joan sighed and trudged to her dressing room to get ready, but was stopped by a sharp twinge in her wingbuds. She winced and reached back, but a pain in her wrists halted the movement. She yanked her arms forward again.

And her wrists burst open and silver came exploding out.

Silk.

Joan let out a cry of pain and jumped back, but the stuff pouring from her followed like starved snakes. It began to wrap around her arms and legs and chest, and she desperately tried to tear the silk off of her, but not only was it sticky, but it was also really strong and refined. She scratched and pulled, but it either stuck to her hands or just didn't come off. She frantically covered the slit in one of her wrists, trying to stop the flow, and the strands merely wove around her fingers and consumed them.

She tottered backwards and sunk to her knees, overcome by an intense feeling of nausea like she hadn’t eaten in years, every energy source in her body--fats, carbs, calories, sugars--were being burned away by this hellish process. She opened her mouth to scream or cry for help, but found that she couldn’t even muster up a mere squeak of noise. Cramps seized her stomach in a vice grip, like all her organs were being shredded inside of her. Her vision was starting to fade out as the silk wrapped around her neck and face and she wondered if this was how she died. She suffocates because of some mutation she doesn’t even understand.

Joan doesn’t want to die, not like this, not again, not without flying at least once, not without a single person who cares about her…

Then, blackness. The silk wrapped around her entire body until she looked mummified, and then spun itself larger and larger and larger.

The last thing she heard was someone stepping into her dressing room, telling her she was needed by someone on tech, and then nothing.

She prayed they would help her.

\------

Everyone stared in shock at the silvery-gold cocoon sitting in the corner of the dressing room. It was the shape of an egg lying on its side and was so thick with silk that none of them could see the music director inside. It just sat there, glowing faintly, not showing any signs of breaking open anytime soon.

“She did not…” Maggie said, trailing off, flabbergasted.

“She did too.” Maria affirmed.

“What the fuck?” Jane said. “I thought she was Flightless. She _is_ Flightless. What happened?”

“You sound disappointed.” Bessie commented. Her big bat ears were swiveling around, as if she were trying to listen for any signs of life inside the cocoon.

Jane ruffled. “I’m--” Her tail feathers bristle, wings twitching in agitation. “I’m just _confused_.”

“Uh huh.” Bessie nodded, deftly dodging the glare Jane shot her by wing her ears to block out the corners of her vision.

“It’s definitely an insect avian cocoon,” Cathy said. She stepped forward and tapped the cocoon. “Maybe she was just a really late insect and not actually Flightless.”

“There’s no way!” Kitty barked. She almost looked jealous at not being the only butterfly anymore.

“Well, whatever it is,” Cathy went on, “it’s going to make performing difficult for the next week until she comes out.”

“IF she even comes out,” Anne said, and Jane looked slightly wistful at that concept.

“We could always cut it open,” Kitty suggested breezily. “Get her out early.”

Aragon shot Kitty a disgusted look. “Don’t your insides melt during metamorphosis?” She asked. “If we cut her out, she’ll probably die. And not entirely be a solid person anymore.”

“Oh.” Kitty said, then shrugged nonchalantly. “Meh. Oh well.”

“Well,” Cleves said, “we got a lot of waiting to do.”

\------

Aragon resisted the urge to smash her wings into Maggie’s head when the magpie poked the fragile structure of Joan’s cocoon, and she wasn’t sure why.

“How long will this take?” Maggie asked, already impatient even though it’s only been a day since Joan started metamorphosis.

“A week, I think.” Cathy answered.

“A week?!” Both Maggie and Anne yelped.

“We’re never going to get our MD back!” Anne groaned dramatically, flopping out her wings.

“What a shame,” Jane mused.

“Yes we will?” Cathy tilted her head at Anne. “She’s coming out eventually.”

“Yes,” Aragon agreed. “A week is fine. She can take all the time she needs.”

The others glanced at her strangely, but she ignored them. Just like how she was trying to ignore the weird maternal instincts welling up inside of her.

\------

“Is it now? It is happening? Is that a sign? What does that mean?”

“I will throttle you if you don’t shut up.”

Anne snickered at Aragon’s annoyance, then fixed her eyes back on Joan’s cocoon. It was as plain and still and boring as the day before. And the day before that.

“Nothing is happening,” Aragon added. “It looks exactly the same.”

“Are you sure?” Anne said. She waved a parrot green wing at one side of the cocoon. “Doesn’t that side look a little crinkled? Hey, Kit!” She turned to her cousin passing by in the hallway. “Is this a sign she’s going to come out?”

“Sure,” Kitty said, not caring.

“This is so boring.” Anne said to Aragon. “I’m gonna go find something else to do. You were right.”

Aragon rolled her eyes in amusement at the bird, then fixed her eyes on the cocoon.

“Come out when you’re ready, Joan,” She said. “I’ll be waiting.”

\------

By the fourth day, most people stopped gawking at the cocoon. Only a few workers would stop by to look at it, but quickly went on with their work, not really caring anymore. The lump of silk was sort of just there now, almost forgotten. Just like Joan had been.

\------

On the fifth day, Aragon found Kitty alone in the dressing room, staring intently at the cocoon with a look in her eye that Aragon did not like. When she was noticed, Kitty flicked her wings dismissively and walked out without a word. That night, Aragon dreamed of the cocoon being ripped open and Joan coming out in agony, horribly disfigured and screaming.

\------

For the eleventh time on the sixth day, Aragon counted the food she had bought. Fruits and vegetables, cookies and chips, cheese strings and slices of sandwich meat-- She worried her talons in her feathers and hoped it would be enough for when Joan woke up. Cathy had said Joan was going to be extremely hungry when she woke up, so she was just preparing, that’s all. Nobody else was going to, so she just decided to do it herself. That’s all. There were no maternal implications going on at all. Nope. None.

Aragon stole a glance back at the faintly glowing cocoon in the corner. It looked exactly the same as it did six days ago. 

Or did it?

Aragon walked over to the cocoon, circling around it for a moment before kneeling beside it. She carefully placed both hands on the surface, folding her wings away, and pressed her head against the woven material.

“Joan? Can you hear me?” She whispered softly, so softly, like she was afraid she might disturb the girl inside. “It’s Catalina, Joan. I’m here. I’m right here. You’re doing great, sweetheart. You’ll look so beautiful once you get out of there, baby girl.”

Aragon found that she was missing the girl. Like, really badly. She missed Joan’s shy smile and her gentleness and how she was always so passionate about music, even if it took everything out of her. She missed everything about the timid little music director, and she hadn’t realized how much she enjoyed seeing her everyday, even if they didn’t talk that often, until right now.

And then the silk moved against her skin, a slight push and give, as though the avian inside was nudging her back or saying that she missed her, too.

\------

It was late afternoon of the seventh day when the cocoon moved. Aragon and Cathy, who were both in the dressing room waiting, snapped their heads up in sync, watching closely as if they thought that if they looked away for even a second the week would start all over again.

Right when they started to believe it had been their imagination, the cocoon moved again. And, this time, it wasn’t spotted in the corner of their peripheral vision.

Joan was coming out.

“It’s happening.” Aragon said after everyone was gathered in the dressing room, as if they didn’t already know that. She grabbed and squeezed Cleves’s arm tightly, not realizing that her talons were digging in. “Do you remember your metamorphosis?” She snapped her head around to Kitty. “Is there anything we should do when she comes out? What if she needs help getting out of the cocoon? Can she get out on her own?”

“Oh my god,” Kitty groaned in annoyance. “I don’t know!”

“How can you not know?!” Aragon squawked, beating her wings. “You literally went through this!!”

“I forgot.” Kitty shrugged.

“No you didn’t.” Aragon growled. “You’re just not saying anything because you want to be a selfish--”

A crack split down the front of the cocoon. Aragon shut her mouth instantly before she could finish her scolding and whipped her gaze forward again. Fingers with new, tiny curved claws grabbed the edges of the slice and began pulling open, then clawing when that didn’t work. 

“Is she okay?” Aragon asked. “She looks like she’s struggling. Is she struggling? Cathy, is she okay?” She looked at her goddaughter, sinking her talons deeper into Cleves’s arm. She didn’t even hear Cleves’s hiss of pain.

“She’s fine, Catalina.” Cathy assured her. “From what I’ve read, this is normal. Just give her a moment.”

Aragon swallowed thickly, but nodded and looked forward again.

Hand prints could be seen pressing against the inside of the cocoon as the silk bindings were slowly scratched away. After a moment of fighting with the structure (and Kitty muttering, “I got out a lot faster than this” underneath her breath), an arm poked out, then another...and then another. 

Right. Insect avians have four arms. That’s probably going to be daunting to Joan after having only two for so long. 

The three visible arms, which were all covered in a thick, dripping shag of pink-yellow fluff from the elbow down, dug their claws into the surface of the cocoon, tearing and crinkling the silk, and then a familiar head popped out.

“Joan,” Aragon breathed. “Joan, we’re here. _I’m_ here. You’re doing so good!”

“When did you start caring so much?” Jane asked, but shut up when Cathy nudged her.

Elegant golden antenna that looked like feathers unfurled from the crown of Joan’s head and waved in the air. Tufts of pink and yellow, like the fuzz on her arms, were matted by wetness on her ears. When she shoved more of her upper body out of the shredded cocoon, they all could see that 1) she was completely naked from her clothing being eroded by the cocoon’s fluids, and 2) there was more of that pink and yellow fluff on her chest and belly. It completely covered up her breasts until it looked like she didn’t even have any anymore (maybe she didn’t), and her ribs could just barely be seen under the blanket of fur, which was so long it reached down her torso. Her flat stomach had patches, too, making it soft and fuzzy, much different from the chitin on Kitty, Cathy, and Maria. 

With a splash and a cascade of cocoon fluids, Joan collapsed forward on her stomach. A few of the spectators looked away from her nakedness and stepped back from the liquids now spilled across the floor, but Aragon couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight. Her heart was beating rapidly inside of her chest. She had the unresisting urge to run over and swaddle Joan in her wings.

Joan twitched on the ground, then took a deep breath. Fishhook-like claws scraped down against the tile as she tried to regain mobility. Cocoon fluid dripped off her wet hair and pale skin that was now bristled with fuzz. She unfolded her wings to let them dry, and everyone in the room gasped.

They were beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Aragon had thought that Kitty’s glass-like wings were the prettiest wings to ever exist in the entire world, but not even their iridescence could live up to the beauty of Joan’s rosy maple moth wings.

Pastel pink and banana yellow swirled together in beautiful shades across fuzzy chitin, as if the sunset itself had bled itself upon Joan’s wings. They were gigantic and curved into the most precious shapes Aragon had ever seen before.

Joan looked up, and her eyes were rings of moon silver blinking from an abyss of solid black.

“Ta-dah!” She squeaked hoarsely.


End file.
